


You Make Me Smile

by Palomo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7140146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palomo/pseuds/Palomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epsilon has a little chat with a certain lightish-red soldier that makes him think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is just a little churchnut one-shot as a practise more than anything. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> -Palomo

Rampancy. 

That god-forsaken word was littered throughout almost every file and data store Epsilon encountered as he traversed the digital highways that linked all of Armonia. The passing of time had faded into the background as he worked; he was aware of it, of course, but the A.I opted to lend the processing power required to monitor time on more pressing tasks. 

A computer screen clicked to life as Epsilon crossed its interface, his conscious mind scanning the inconspicuous machine for any mention of the key words “A.I” and more specifically “fragmented A.I life expectancy”. Frustratingly he was yet to uncover anything he didn’t already know. And what he did know wasn’t exactly uplifting. 

A scan of the area lead him to a particularly interesting file focused on this outpost’s previous artificial inhabitant: a smart A.I with the designation Unity. Whilst he did get a snort out of her name, _seriously, a smart A.I whose function was to maintain a military base in the midst of a civil war, and they named her unity?_ What really drew his curiosity was one specific file: A record of her avatar changing. 

He was just about to enter the interface and cross into the system when, at the same time, a familiar pink soldier passed by the terminal and happened to notice the monitor’s activity. Epsilon made a mental note to cut the feed next time; the last thing he needed was for some random private to notice the cursor navigating itself.

Donut approached the terminal, curious about exactly that. With hiding out of the question, Epsilon performed the inputs necessary to activate his hologram.

“Oh! Hey Church! what are you doing in there?” 

The hologram appeared from the nearby holotank, his digital mind tapping into the security feed in order to see the pink soldier. He grunted internally at the state of the cameras, making a mental note to request maintenance on the ancient equipment. 

“Hey Donut, just getting some time to myself. A guy can only handle hearing someone else’s thoughts for so long.”

The red raised a well-kept eyebrow. “You sure Carolina’s okay with that?”

Epsilon’s sigh was so dramatic it would have made Washington proud. He made sure to pour every ounce of exhaustion into his posture as an unspoken response. 

“Probably not, but I don’t have the energy to care right now. Armonia has a pretty decent terminal system, at least a hell of a lot better than the shit at the rebel base, so I figured I’d take advantage of the extra processing power while it’s available.” 

“You running low on, er, hard drive space?” 

While Epsilon appreciated the effort, the sim trooper’s lack of knowledge was blatantly apparent. 

“Something like that.” The statement was left hanging in the air, neither party quite sure of how to continue the conversation.

“Why aren’t you over in the armoury?” Epsilon questioned before the silence could become awkward. “I would have thought Lopez would be missing your help.” The slight of sarcasm in his tone went unnoticed or ignored by Donut, probably for the best. 

“Same reason as you, really,” the pink soldier shrugged. “It all gets to be a bit much sometimes, but it’s nice out here. I bet if I could find some petunia bulbs, I could start a lovely little garden.” He smiled softly at the idea, and Epsilon could have sworn he felt the beginnings of a blush crawling up his hologram. 

He hated this. Donut was one of the most easy to read, predictable people he had ever met. He was used to reactions being so easily foreseeable, and not even as an A.I. thing, but just through common sense. Every human Epsilon knew was predictable to a large extent. He could "calculate" (Delta was instant he was doing the math, but Epsilon saw it as something a lot simpler) thousands of possible actions and responses for anyone he spoke to within nanoseconds of addressing them. But, whenever he spoke to Donut specifically, he found himself doubting it despite his consistent past accuracy. 

_'Clearly, you are distracted.'_ Delta highlighted the obvious.

‘ _Alpha never had to deal with this bullshit,’_ Epsilon noted bitterly as he lazily sieved through the files.

‘ _That is because the Alpha did not think like an A.I.’_ Gamma oh-so-helpfully chimed in. 

‘ _I know. I’m not just talking about the calculations._ ’ He did know that, but he also knew it was because Alpha had Tex to focus on. Epsilon on the other hand, Epsilon had a lot more freedom in that department. The A.I kept tabs on all of his idiots; he was overly cautious, careful. He would not allow the past to repeat itself, one of many vows he made atop the blue base that day. 

He had been given a second chance—well, not a _second_ chance-- but if he truly tried to calculate just how many chances he had received, he was sure even _his_ notable processing speed would struggle. Regardless, from that 'second chance' came a subconscious need to get it right this time. A protectiveness that manifested in snark remarks and a need to plan for every possible scenario. Even still, he hadn't planned for this. He hadn't planned for rampancy. 

Donut’s carefree chatter drew Epsilon’s attention once more and he listened closely, putting together the man's words to "calculate" the most likely topic of conversation. The base’s decor took first place, Epsilon tuned out again, preferring to focus on the soft flush in Donut’s cheeks and the animated nature of his gesturing as he spoke. The first time Epsilon had seen Donut’s face, he had been shaken by the wear of once delicate features. He wouldn't have dreamed he would see so much war on the sim trooper's face. After all, the sim trooper's hadn't seen war. On Wash or Carolina, sure. But never on Donut. 

And yet the scars and off colour skin could do nothing to conceal his sunny attitude, a blatant disregard for the severe nature of his day-to-day that left Epsilon both amused and vaguely impressed. He wasn't sure when he started seeing Donut as more than one of the gang, when his feelings for the red became separate from the family bond he worked to maintain. He supposed it didn't actually matter in the long run and dwelling on it was just a waste of processing power. For this scenario, the cause was irrelevant. It was the possible outcomes that required attention. 

The very idea of his feelings ever manifesting into words was improbable.

_'The probability of them then being returned had a 0.0000098446 likelihood._

_'Thanks D, don't do that anymore.'_

And still, he let himself have this silly crush. If nothing else, it made for a few pleasant thoughts when he was bored.  

“What you looking at in there?” 

The A.I snapped back to reality again. “What?” 

Donut was happy to repeat himself and soon Epsilon was eagerly explaining the interesting aspects and limitations of A.I avatars. He eventually paused in his slight rambling when he noticed Donut’s thoughtful expression. Once Donut saw he held the A.I’s attention he donned a grin. 

“So, you can change your appearance?”

While slightly crestfallen that that seemed to be the only piece of information the red had picked up on, Epsilon was still pleased at the other man’s interest in the subject. “Theoretically. But, if I go about it the wrong way, the fuck up could end up crashing my systems, and I’m not all that eager to find out what that would mean for me.”

“Well, I'm here if you do. We could brainstorm for the best outfit possible!” 

Now the thoughtful look made sense. Epsilon could only guess at the coordinated outfits running though his mind. 

Donut’s expression slowly dropped into a slight frown, and Epsilon once more cursed the man’s unpredictability. 

“Hey, Church? You’re still figuring out how this works, right?” 

The blue nodded.

“So, if you just go for it and plunge right in, you could find yourself in a sticky situation real quick… Can you be careful? Like, use protection? You know, from viruses and stuff?” He looked at Church expectantly, missing the little choked laugh that escaped the hologram. 

“Um... Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it; I know what I'm doing.” The slight stumble in his voice wasn't lost on Donut.

The pink soldier beamed gratefully, a perfectly maintained smile that made the AI’s processing stall for a microsecond. Epsilon felt it in his coding: a preparation to simulate the appropriate physical response that was cut short by his self-set limitations. 

_I want to smile back_. 

Once that realisation hit him, there was no going back. It sparked his determination and steeled his resolve. It wasn't till Donut had wandered off a while later that Epsilon set to work. He spread himself deeper into the system, tapping into every data store and memory cache he could find.

Carolina wouldn’t find him until hours later, his sentient mind condensed at a terminal miles away in the centre of Armonia. 

He’d greet her with cybernetic blue eyes and a proud grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading my first fic :)


End file.
